Scar
Timothy huddles belowdeck. Silent. Unmoving. A part of the darkness. The ship rocks as it leaves the harbor. He may choose to reveal his presence when the ship gets far enough away from the port. But until then, he needs to stay hidden and be careful, or they will send him back. And then Bruce’s (unsaid) message will be lost to Jason.
And Tim will not fail the man that had taken him in. He will not fail the son that felt betrayed by Tim’s presence. This whole situation is his fault anyway. So it only makes sense that he be the one that stowaway The Bloodletter to get Jason’s attention.
(Besides, Jason has always intrigued Tim. They are so different.)
Tim waits two hours. Two hours that would have been a waste if Captain Todd wants to send Tim back. Pirates cannot afford to waste that much time. Not when there are slave ships to free and corrupt government ships to pillage.
Tim hopes that he can fulfill his mission before they run into the Batman’s ship-Bruce’s ship-The Dark Knight. (Bruce’s personal ship is called The Patronage.) Bruce does not know he is out here. Richard does not know he is out here.
“Well, well. What do we have here?” That accent is lower class, but spine tingling.
Jason Todd, Captain of The Bloodletter, now knows that he is here. The dying sunlight floods into the cargo hold, causing Tim to blink. He stands. There is no point in hiding behind crates when Jason already knows that he is here. It would look like he has something to hide and he does not. He holds his hands behind his back. He was trained by a veteran of the navy and his posture is perfect.
Jason cocks his head at him, obscuring some of the light. “I know you. You are the one that replaced me. Another of Bruce Wayne’s charity cases. Precious l’il thing aren’t you?”
“Not really,” Tim replies. He notices just how much their accents differ. Tim knows his sounds wealthy, even though he is trying to change it. He has yet to master the voice change that Bruce can go through so seamlessly.
Jason grins. His teeth are perfect and white, unlike many pirates that Tim has brought down with Bruce. He smooths out the red leather jacket and hooks his fingers in the belt loops of his breeches. He looks Tim over, his teal-green eyes sending heat waves across Tim’s skin. He does his best not to let it show. Tim is a master at stoicism, if not voice.
“What are you doing on my ship, Stowaway? Come to spy for your Daddy?”
Tim shakes his head slowly. “No, sir.” Jason’s eyes flash.
“Don’t call me ‘sir.’” He crosses his arms. “If you didn’t come to spy-not that I believe you, of course-but if you didn’t, what did you come here for?”
Tim takes a deep breath. “To join your crew.” He remembers that he has a mission, an objective, a purpose here. But every time he looks at Jason he... forgets. And that’s not good. This man has beaten him, almost killed him and-
(Jason’s looking at him again and it makes him lose his thoughts.)
And Jason smiles. Tilts his head a little. “Okay. Why the fuck not, right? Makes me your boss. Gives me leverage over Daddy Dearest." His boots are almost silent when he moves forward a two long strides (except for a quiet thunk, thunk). His dagger comes from his sheath with a shing. “But if you fuck with any of my operations, I will gut you, l’il bird. Do you understand me?”
Tim doesn’t swallow. The dagger would cut into his neck. But he meets Jason’s eyes, even as his knees tremble with something. “I won’t kill anyone. But I won’t interfere with your work either.”
Jason’s dagger moves to the side of his neck and cuts. Cuts deeply. Tim doesn’t flinch. He has learned not to flinch at anything, especially anything that Jason does. He has heard things, lots of things. This is just something to add to the list.
This cut will scar. He is sure of it.
“You’re mine now,” Jason says quietly and his breath ghosts over Tim’s face before he turns and walks back up to the top deck, beckoning for Tim to follow him. Tim ignores the blood. He is too busy catching up with Jason to pay much attention.
The future scar in his neck tingles rather than stings when he notices that Jason has a matching mark on his own neck.
(But remember, Timothy, you have a purpose here.)
And Tim will not fail the man that had taken him in. He will not fail the son that felt betrayed by Tim’s presence. This whole situation is his fault anyway. So it only makes sense that he be the one that stowaway The Bloodletter to get Jason’s attention.
(Besides, Jason has always intrigued Tim. They are so different.)
Tim waits two hours. Two hours that would have been a waste if Captain Todd wants to send Tim back. Pirates cannot afford to waste that much time. Not when there are slave ships to free and corrupt government ships to pillage.
Tim hopes that he can fulfill his mission before they run into the Batman’s ship-Bruce’s ship-The Dark Knight. (Bruce’s personal ship is called The Patronage.) Bruce does not know he is out here. Richard does not know he is out here.
“Well, well. What do we have here?” That accent is lower class, but spine tingling.
Jason Todd, Captain of The Bloodletter, now knows that he is here. The dying sunlight floods into the cargo hold, causing Tim to blink. He stands. There is no point in hiding behind crates when Jason already knows that he is here. It would look like he has something to hide and he does not. He holds his hands behind his back. He was trained by a veteran of the navy and his posture is perfect.
Jason cocks his head at him, obscuring some of the light. “I know you. You are the one that replaced me. Another of Bruce Wayne’s charity cases. Precious l’il thing aren’t you?”
“Not really,” Tim replies. He notices just how much their accents differ. Tim knows his sounds wealthy, even though he is trying to change it. He has yet to master the voice change that Bruce can go through so seamlessly.
Jason grins. His teeth are perfect and white, unlike many pirates that Tim has brought down with Bruce. He smooths out the red leather jacket and hooks his fingers in the belt loops of his breeches. He looks Tim over, his teal-green eyes sending heat waves across Tim’s skin. He does his best not to let it show. Tim is a master at stoicism, if not voice.
“What are you doing on my ship, Stowaway? Come to spy for your Daddy?”
Tim shakes his head slowly. “No, sir.” Jason’s eyes flash.
“Don’t call me ‘sir.’” He crosses his arms. “If you didn’t come to spy-not that I believe you, of course-but if you didn’t, what did you come here for?”
Tim takes a deep breath. “To join your crew.” He remembers that he has a mission, an objective, a purpose here. But every time he looks at Jason he... forgets. And that’s not good. This man has beaten him, almost killed him and-
(Jason’s looking at him again and it makes him lose his thoughts.)
And Jason smiles. Tilts his head a little. “Okay. Why the fuck not, right? Makes me your boss. Gives me leverage over Daddy Dearest." His boots are almost silent when he moves forward a two long strides (except for a quiet thunk, thunk). His dagger comes from his sheath with a shing. “But if you fuck with any of my operations, I will gut you, l’il bird. Do you understand me?”
Tim doesn’t swallow. The dagger would cut into his neck. But he meets Jason’s eyes, even as his knees tremble with something. “I won’t kill anyone. But I won’t interfere with your work either.”
Jason’s dagger moves to the side of his neck and cuts. Cuts deeply. Tim doesn’t flinch. He has learned not to flinch at anything, especially anything that Jason does. He has heard things, lots of things. This is just something to add to the list.
This cut will scar. He is sure of it.
“You’re mine now,” Jason says quietly and his breath ghosts over Tim’s face before he turns and walks back up to the top deck, beckoning for Tim to follow him. Tim ignores the blood. He is too busy catching up with Jason to pay much attention.
The future scar in his neck tingles rather than stings when he notices that Jason has a matching mark on his own neck.
(But remember, Timothy, you have a purpose here.)